I Do

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Chapter Twenty-Six: I Do

@}--`--,---

"Mr. Potter," greeted Severus, shaking the younger man's hand for the first (and hopefully last) time, peering down into wide, nervous eyes as the sun beamed down upon them both and the others behind him waiting to give their congratulations.

"Professor. I was hoping you'd come," the boy replied. "My mum would have wanted it..."

"Yes, well," he muttered, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers and looking over the boy's head. "I think this is one of the only things in your life, Potter, that I cannot say you mucked up over."

"It's not too early, then?" Potter suddenly blurted.

Severus looked down at him and paused. The boy was positively shaking. "No," he sighed.

"No? You don't think so?" Potter took off his glasses and cleaned them on his tie, leaving a smudge on the beautiful white silk.

Severus couldn't decide whether to strangle him or hug him. And wasn't that a strange predicament? He settled for reaching out and putting a hand on Potter's shoulder briefly, then cleaned his tie. "No."

Potter paused, looking behind Severus, seeing all the Weasleys waiting in line a few paces away, having said hello to Molly and Arthur, glaring at Severus as if it was his fault Harry bloody Potter was getting cold feet.

That was when Severus had had enough. "Listen," he hissed, "you are Harry Potter and you've survived the Killing Curse. Twice. You can bloody well survive a wedding. I spent a fortune on this suit, and I'll not have it go to waste, do you hear me?"

Potter straightened up immediately. "Yes, sir," he whispered automatically, then, gulping determinedly, adjusted his tie and shoved his hand out, again. "Thank you."

Severus took it grudgingly. "Really, Harry." Where the hell did that come from? "Don't mention it."

And with that, Severus Snape decided he was going soft. Incredibly. Soft.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus strode up the steps into the beautiful archway that led into the ruins of an old chapel. It seemed rather run down from the exterior, but...

The creamy stone seemed to reach into the sunlight, blending with the bright colour of the clouds that rolled past overhead where a roof once had been. The vitraux* had been re-erected, however, and lovely new stained glass shone in lovely May hues...light green, lavender, sky blue and blush pink, forming dazzling flowers and figures that shifted and changed every few minutes or so.

Severus blinked, gazing around the small ruin, and saw the polished pews and the dais down the aisle, and noticed the roses that hung in a tasteful waterfall over the altar. And now that he turned around, he saw the small rosebuds that hung from the ends of the pews.

"May I usher you to your seat, Sir?"

Severus looked down to his right, spotting Luna Lovegood in a nice lavender dress, her hair left to hang in a... Severus guessed it was some sort of semi-ponytail, a delicate silver butterfly clipping back the top layer of fine blonde hair. She stared up at him, smiling serenely, and offered her elbow.

He just raised a dark eyebrow and took it.

They moved through the gathering (awed) crowd to the second row of the pews on the groom's side, which took Severus by surprise, although when he thought about it, it made much more sense than to seat him amongst all the gingers that would surely occupy their whole side of the congregation and then some, spilling over into Potter's. Because, after all, the boy didn't have any family.

"Here you are, sir. You're sitting on the end, here, next to the Grangers...Bela? Edwin? This is Professor Severus Snape. He is Potion master at Hogwarts, although you probably know that. Hermione tells you everything." Luna swept away before Severus could utter his thanks, leaving him to stare down at a very short woman with dark blue eyes and Hermione's face, dressed in a nice yellow dress suit and hat, and a very tall, very thin man with Hermione's eyes and her unfortunate, but bright white, front teeth. They smiled at him.

"Pleased to meet you, Professor." Bela offered her hand and he took it, slightly in a daze. "We've heard so much about you from Hermione, as dear Luna said."

"She really admires you," Edwin added, offering his hand, his other resting atop Bela Granger's shoulder.

"Is that so?" He smirked.

"Although," Bela chuckled, "she says the both of you... disagree, every now and again."

Severus, surprisingly, joined in with their laugh. "Hermione is very strong-willed," he admitted.

"Please," said Edwin, winking, "feel free to knock some sense into her, if you can. She's determined to go on this trip with her new boyfriend all over the world for a year or so."

Severus nearly choked. "Really?" He hoped he didn't sound as strained as he felt.

"Yes," Mrs. Granger sighed, patting her husband's hand. "We've given up trying to tell her what to do. We're invited wherever for holidays, of course."

"She's a free spirit," Edwin said. "And she's not been this happy in a long while, so, we're not going to push." The two of them shared a laugh.

There was an awkward pause where Severus looked around the place, registering several familiar faces and filing them away for a later meet-and-greet.

But the silence was not to be. "Hermione says you've been very good to her, keeping an eye on her when all the drama happened."

"Huh." Severus looked down at the program in his hand and rolled it up nervously.

"Thank you." He felt a hand on his forearm and turned quickly to a smiling Bela Granger.

Severus offered a weak smile, nodding modestly but turned quickly as a familiar giggle echoed over the crowd nearest them.

"That'll be Hermione," Severus heard Mr. Granger say.

She emerged from the crowd on the arm of the Malfoy pillock, who was sniggering, keeping her hand snug between his arm and his ribs, his hand resting atop hers as they approached.

It was then that Hermione looked up and the smile faltered on her face...a punch to his gut, really. "Why, hello, Professor," she said and then elbowed Draco in the stomach when he tried to tickle her.

She looked so beautiful it ached. The silky, soft green dress fell to her knees and hugged her breasts, leaving just a shadow of décolletage. Her hair was done up in much the same fashion as Lovegood's had been, but it was certainly bushier, with thick, wide curls that fluttered down past her shoulders, ending around her rib cage. And her shoes**. Good God.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. Mister Malfoy," he tagged on last minute.

"Lovely day, isn't it, Professor?" Malfoy smiled.

"Indeed it is."

"Draco is going to sit with you all, on the end there." Hermione pointed past her parents.

"Alright, love," Draco said, nodding. He leaned over and planted a swift kiss on Hermione's lips and smoothed the hair on the top of her head. "I'll see you."

"Yes, right up on stage." She rolled her eyes, an annoyed blush creeping up her neck. "I've got to go, though. Gabrielle has set down so I have to get all these people to do so as well. Mummy, Dad, I love you, but I've got to see if everything's alright with Ginny." She glanced back as Severus once more, her eyes crinkling a bit at the corners, and started calmly ushering others to their seats. Severus could see that Mrs. Fleur Weasley, Lovegood, George and Ronald were doing the same. Draco shuffled to the end of the pew, conversing with Mr. Granger about dentistry or something as Severus sat and watched the groomsmen and bridesmaids finally seat everyone. They all disappeared out of the archway eventually, and an anticipatory hush came over the crowd.

Severus could clearly see now that Gabrielle Delacour was indeed sitting on the dais in a grey satin dress, her hands caressing a dark cello as she waited for her signal. Birds chirped and sang far off as the first note vibrated through the congregation and the young girl's fingers drifted over the strings as she played, her bow sliding back and forth with each lingering note***, and the ceremony began.

--

Hermione hardly noticed anything as she walked gracefully down the aisle, arm-in-arm with Ron (Best Man in his snappy suit and sage green tie to match her dress). He smiled down at her briefly before catching Tommi's eye at the end of a row, winking saucily.

But Hermione saw none of that.

She couldn't get the image of a certain dashing professor out of her head. She looked up as they neared the end of the pews and accidentally caught said professor's eye.

Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn.

She'd thought this was over. This... infatuation. It had been an effect of the potion, right?

But he looked so... good... in his navy blue suit and silvery tie. And all those feelings that she'd had earlier in the year had come roiling back like saturated, threatening thunderclouds when she'd spotted him earlier. She squeezed Ron's arm to make sure this was real. What she felt.

Snape's eyes seemed to pierce right through Hermione as she walked past, not daring to take her eyes away from him.

And then she remembered.

'... If the drinker has certain feelings for a certain person, their physical attraction might be enhanced toward the one receiving affection...'

Oh, God, she'd said so herself...albeit in a rapid, excited manner...when Professor Snape had confronted her during her detention in the kitchens.

'Potions aren't just digested, Hermione, they can have serious effects on your olfactory glands.'

Hermione tried not to look like she might puke as Ron led her to her spot on the platform and went to his side, glancing over Kingsley (who was presiding over the ceremony) at the nervous-but-determined Harry to her left. Maybe he looked worse than she did.

Why didn't you think of this before? an inner voice scolded.

Because you put the whole, embarrassing, mortifying event behind you, said another.

Luna soon joined her and then Fleur, looking magnificent as always and peering at Hermione with a look that said, 'Don't you dare vomit and ruin zis wedding!'

Hermione took a big breath and looked to the archway, standing taller and determinedly NOT-looking in the direction of her parents... which just so happened to be where Snape was. And Draco, of course.

In the doorway appeared a little boy, an unexpected sight, in a matching tuxedo like Harry's with bubblegum pink hair and a cushion bearing two glinting rings in his arms. Hermione snapped her head towards Harry, who wore a similar surprised, but happy, expression.

Teddy was given a nudge by Andromeda to walk down the aisle, and the little thing did, wobbly and distracted, but still walking, a huge, bare-gummed smile on his face. Gabrielle played her song with a little more flit and flutter as Teddy marched down the aisle, passing by Professor Snape and blinking at him for a moment.

Everyone paused, and Snape looked startled.

Just then, Teddy's hair grew long and black, his nose large and pronounced, and the whole congregation burst into surprised laughter, including Snape. Teddy just stared up at him.

So, still smiling, Snape scooped the child up and carried him to the dais, handing him over to Harry.

Harry laughed a thank you to the professor, who just shook his head and returned to his seat.

Oh, how she'd missed that smile. She'd made him laugh before.

Teddy's hair promptly shortened into a messy shock on the top of his head, and his eyes flickered to a startling green. Harry planted a kiss on Teddy' cheek and, handing him off to Ron (who shoved the kid into the arms of a reluctant Neville), looked towards the archway for a final time as the music swirled and changed into a familiar tune.

-o-

Later, Hermione sat at a round table under the stars in the Weasleys' back yard, regarding a scene very similar to Bill and Fleur's wedding, but certainly much happier, with wine and cheer and Weasleys galore. And she felt kind of awful.

Draco sat next to her, nursing a scotch with his right hand and tracing circles on her knee with his left, looking happy-bored. How he managed that, she didn't know. She smiled at him, and he looked over, smirking and placing a kiss under her ear. She feigned ticklishness in order to overshadow the discomfort she felt at the moment, trying to sort out what the hell was wrong with her.

Ron was busy gobbling up the wedding cake in front of him, busily ignoring Tommi and Ginny's chatter about weddings and rings and other such commitments. Draco helpfully hit him in the back when he nearly choked, hearing Tommi mention kids. Hermione wasn't very sorry that he'd lost the ability to breathe for a moment.

"Merlin, you'd think we're all in our thirties, biological clocks ticking!" George laughed to Ron, who smiled wearily and gulped down some cider, his eyes watery.

"When does the dancing start?" Angelina asked across the table. The wedding party and their dates were seated at a huge round table in the middle of the dining area. George had brought Angelina along, although no one was sure if they were actually dating. Arthur hadn't even time to check his pocket watch before music came to life across the dance floor behind Hermione.

The father of the bride just chuckled and said, "Well, now, of course!"

And suddenly a huge number of people sprang from their seats and dragged their partners with them, determined to have a good time. Draco glanced at Hermione, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Oh, I suppose," she sighed, hoping that a dance or two would distract her.

Draco promptly stood and held his hand out. She placed her hand in his, and he tugged her up and onto the floor, wrapping an arm around her waist and the holding the other out to her right where she clasped her hand with his. They swayed and twirled and spun to the lively music for a good while, until Ron asked for a dance, and Draco reluctantly let him have it.

Ron clumsily led Hermione around the floor for a good while joking and laughing with her for a while, until the music slowed to a couples dance. Hermione looked away from him when they realized it.

"Listen, Hermione," Ron muttered quietly, "I know it must have been difficult to hear Tommi speaking so flippantly about kids and all..."

Her eyes snapped suddenly to his, hardening. "What makes you think that?"

"Well... the way you looked at me."

"Oh, sorry. I'll be sure not to look at you when you're making a spectacle of yourself, choking on your own spit," she said sarcastically.

"No, you were looking at me like I deserved it. It just caught me off guard...what she said."

"And don't you still deserve it, Ron? You can't have expected me to forgive and forget after all of those things that you said to me. You've been great trying to befriend me again, trying to get me to trust you, but the rest won't be easy."

"You're right. But, you must realize that I do want to get married one day, and obviously it won't be to you..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Bollocks. I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you have to... get over the fact that I'll be having kids with someone else."

"Please, Ron, rub it in my face a little bit more that you want a woman barefoot and pregnant, and I'm not her."

"Are you not... over me?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh, for God's sake, Ronald!" she hissed. "I don't want to marry you. The reasons I left you may have been because of my infertility--my inability to live up to your expectations--but I stayed away because I realized it was better for me."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, pulling her in for a hug. She didn't resist. "I've gone at this the wrong way. I always do."

"You're telling me."

"I just... Things are serious between Tommi and I."

"Tommi and me."

"Whatever. I just wanted to tell you. I'm over you, and I support whatever you want to do with your life, Hermione. There. That's what I meant to say. I have no idea how it turned into an argument."

Hermione just stared up at him. "...All right," she finally said.

"Although, I'd really prefer that you weren't dating Malfoy."

Hermione poked him in the ribs, startling a quiet yelp from him. "Get over it."

"He seems nicer, although it's getting weird how infatuated he is with you."

"I think it's just the first time someone has sincerely liked him for who he is... not for the Malfoy name, you know?"

"I guess." Ron shrugged.

"May I cut in?" said a deep baritone from behind Hermione, although she recognized it without seeing a face. It was then that she realized they were between songs.

Hermione looked up a Ron, who smiled the widest smile she had ever seen when being confronted with a Slytherin. "Of course, Professor," he said cheerfully, obviously recognizing his time to escape as well as discourage any Malfoy-Granger fraternization, and deposited Hermione into the arms of Professor Snape.

Hermione's eyes felt like they would pop out of her head when she looked up at him, noticing his intoxicating sage-lime scent and the absence of his blazer. "Do you mind?" he asked politely, grasping her right hand lightly.

"Not at all, Professor," Hermione murmured.

He smirked and snaked an arm around her waist, splaying his fingers over her lower back and lifting her right arm to guide her in the now slowing song, which seemed to compliment the spring night. "How are you enjoying the festivities, Miss Granger?" he began.

"This is a gorgeous wedding. Fleur and Molly did such a wonderful job, don't you agree?"

"Indeed. It is a very... elegant celebration."

Hermione smiled, nodding.

"For a Weasley event," he added, eliciting a mock-scowl from her.

"Oh, come now. What wedding have you been to with more beauty than this?" Hermione frowned.

Snape just cocked an eyebrow. "The Malfoy wedding, for instance," he replied. When she rolled her eyes, he said, "Although, I must admit, this comes in a very close second. Narcissa insisted on a winter wedding, so it was quite different."

"I see." They swayed in silence for a short while until she saw Teddy over in his own corner of the dance floor, bobbing around like a kangaroo with cobalt blue locks. Her smile turned into a giggle, remembering Snape's part in the ceremony, and she turned her eyes to his. She nearly forgot what she'd been thinking when she met his eyes, deep and dark and intense. It seemed they had not left her face. "It was nice of you to take an unscheduled part in the ceremonies, this afternoon. Apparently Teddy likes you very much."

His lips quirked, even though he feigned a bored tone. "Well, I wasn't going to let him drool at me with my features plastered to his face. He had his duties to uphold."

Hermione snorted and then gasped, covering her mouth and nose with the hand that had been resting on Snape's broad shoulder. He just shook his head and looked over hers into the dark beyond the dance floor where the fairy lights and floating globes ended and the forest began. She fingered the collar of his dress-shirt distractedly as he led her around gracefully.

Finally, after a few moments of shockingly comfortable silence, Hermione blurted, "You look very dashing, tonight, Professor."

His gaze swung to hers in surprise. "So do you, Miss Granger. Lovely, I mean." There was a smirk on his lips, although his voice revealed mild nervousness.

Hermione's smile reflected his nerves. "I do?" she asked, blushing.

He nodded seriously.

"Thank you, sir," she murmured looking down, her eyes focusing on the crisp white buttons of his shirt.

He was quite, although she knew he wanted to say something. He'd inhaled as if to speak. Finally, he breathed, "Green suits you, Hermione."

She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes wide. Was that supposed to mean something? She looked at his lips...thin but supple...and wondered if they were warm like his hands. Her eyes flickered back to his, realizing this could be her only (insane) chance to get a kiss out of her professor before she left on a world-wide trip with... her boyfriend. "May I ask you a question, Professor?" she whispered, tipping her face to his.

Was it just her or was he leaning toward her, as well? She'd barely heard an "Anything, Hermione," before a familiar, panicked voice cut him off, and Snape was again a head-or-so taller and held her at a professional distance.

Hermione pivoted around, her hair smacking Snape's chest, to see Draco, looking pale (well, paler than usual) and stricken, a few feet away. She glanced apologetically behind her, but Snape was gone.

--

Oh, Christ. I almost snogged the poor girl! Severus thought as he stormed toward the bar, signalling the tender for a firewhiskey and tossing it back, slumping into a stool.

"How'd it go?" asked a familiarly grating voice to his right.

Weasley grinned at him, and next to him Miss Vance sat, looking confused.

"What are you on about?" Severus snarled.

"Oh, I think we both know what I'm on about, sir," Weasley said, lifting his beer bottle in a toast and taking a gulp.

"Well, I've no clue what you're hinting at Ronald, so maybe you're not being as crystal clear as you thought. You've had a few, in any case."

"Indeed, Miss Vance," Severus agreed, lifting his glass to her. "Maybe, Mister Weasley, you should focus your attentions on your date instead of your alcohol consumption. Or who I'm dancing with."

"Oh, so this is about Hermione?" Margaret asked (he refused to call her Tommi).

Severus rolled his eyes and turned in his stool to watch the crowd, trying to ignore Weasley's next declaration.

"Tommi, luv, I think there's somethin' going on betwixt our 'Mione and Professor Snape, here."

"Oh, yeah?" Margaret exclaimed excitedly, then lowered her voice significantly. "That's kind of cute isn't it? I mean, they're both bookworms, aren't they?"

"And how much have you had to drink, Miss Vance?" Severus turned to her, looking at her glass pointedly.

"A few more than Ronnie, here." She sniggered.

"Then I would appreciate if you ceased making rather outrageous statements about my relationships with my students," Severus said, feeling exhaustion already.

Margaret didn't seem all that phased. "Oh, that's right," she said to herself. "She's dating Draco, though."

Severus nodded emphatically.

"She's got a Slytherin fetish!" Ron giggled.

With that, Severus stood and stalked off.

--

"Hermione, what was that about?" Draco asked, his voice broken.

"What are you talking about, Draco? What was what about?" Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his, trying to push away the thought of her professor.

"Severus... You two were about to..." Instead of finishing he wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her to him. "Hermione, tell me you weren't going to kiss my Head of House."

"No, Draco! I don't know what you saw, but it wasn't what it looked like."

"Hermione?" His breath soughed against her lips. "I don't know what I would've done if I'd seen him kiss you."

"He wouldn't have, Draco. He wasn't going to kiss me." I was going to kiss him.

Draco tugged reached around his neck for her hand and tugged her out into the night, past the fairy lights and the floating globes. She followed, feeling sheepish and frankly a little overheated from her Snape-encounter. She wanted to kiss something, if not him! "I guess you're right, Hermione," he finally admitted, smiling sheepishly. "I'm just..." He stopped as they reached the tree line and sucked in a big gulp of fresh air.

"Just what, luv?" she asked, feeling equally sheepish, but trying not to show it.

"Gods, Hermione," he said, pulling her to him again and nuzzling into her neck. "I'm just so in love with you."

Hermione stood stock-still, feeling utterly traitorous.

"I can't bear seeing you with other men," he continued, placing an apologetic kiss on her collarbone. "It makes me so jealous. And it shouldn't." He raised his head and kissed her cheek. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. You're so good to me."

Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck, again, feeling tears sting her eyes. God, what had she gotten herself into? Her fingers weaved into the fine blond hair at the nape of his neck, and he kissed her on the lips, giving her what she'd wanted if not from whom she'd wanted it. His tongue slipped into her mouth urgently, and she let him, feeling confused...because she did like Draco in that way... but...

Draco walked her backwards until her back touched the bark of a tree, grinding into her helplessly, grasping at her upper thigh and wrapping her leg around his waist. "I want you, Hermione. Badly," he growled, grinding the evidence into her. It felt lovely, just as all her encounters with him had been.

She needed to pay more attention to the good right in front of her, not the unattainable. "Draco," she murmured, grinding back.

"I love you so much," he said, casting a cushioning spell against the tree and pushing her dress up over her hips, unsure hands flitting over the lace of her thong.

She kissed him in answer.

--

"Professor, may I dance with you?" said an airy voice.

He turned wearily and offered a hand to Miss Lovegood, who smiled widely. They waltzed around the floor in silence for a while (which Severus didn't mind one bit) until she spoke, her dreamy voice cutting into his inner dialogue rather more clearly than he'd expected.

"You are a wonderful dancer, Professor Snape," she stated.

"Why, thank you, Miss Lovegood."

"I watched you with Hermione. You two would make great dance partners. She's almost as graceful as you are."

"Indeed? Do you think so?" he said, failing to cut the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Yes, I do think so. You two go together like... nargles and mistletoe."

Severus felt like crawling into a hole and dying. "Can we speak of something else, Miss Lovegood? I beg of you!"

"Alright," she said lightly. "What do you think of my date this evening, Professor?"

"Your date?"

"Yes. I asked Rolf Scamander to come to the wedding with me. We're good friends from Advanced Care of Magical Creatures."

"He is a smart gentleman. Not terrible at Potions, but no real gift, I must admit. I hear he is as talented as his grandfather in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Oh, yes, sir." She smiled. "He is especially good with flying horses, he tells me. Third year he helped Professor Hagrid with the Beauxbatons horses."

"Is that so?"

She hummed. "He's never heard of the Crumple-Horned Snorkak, though."

Severus nodded sagely. "They are," he joked, "extremely rare."

"Have you seen one, Professor?" She looked up at him in wonder.

"No, Miss Lovegood."

"Oh." Her face held so much disappointment Severus felt terrible having joked about it in the first place. "Not many people have, I suppose..." They swayed a bit. "Well, I think I might marry Rolf."

"Has the spirit of celebration gone to your head?"

"It might seem so. Everyone seems to talk about their love lives at weddings... But, no. I've had this thought for a while now. We are very much alike, Rolf and I. But he has more friends. And he has brown hair."

With that, all thought of Hermione was satisfyingly pushed to the back of his mind, and Severus enjoyed a strange, yet pleasant evening with Miss Lovegood.

And Minerva.

And Andromeda (with Little Teddy).

And Molly and Arthur.

And a rather inebriated Filius.

But, that night, Hermione came back to him in his dreams, white dress and russet hair flowing, and they kissed, this time.

*"Vitraux" is the plural for stained-glass window in French for those of you who didn't recognise it. I thought Severus would have words like that in his vocabulary, considering.

***I was thinking about "Saint-Saëns: Carnival of Animals – The Swan" (preformed by Yo-Yo Ma on his CD, Appassionato) for the introduction. And then, of course, the Wedding March or Pomp and Circumstance. Whichever floats your boat!